Now or Never?

I’m organising the agenda for our weekly writers’ meeting at our place. As I work out the list of topics I glance out the window. A baby blackkbird, feathers still brownish and fluffy, spies an apple core I’d thrown out a few minutes ago. I know the birds like them.

The baby blackbird’s unsure what to do, hops slowly towards it, down a step or two. It changes direction, goes along the small rock wall, down closer. My wife’s thrown some new tiny pebbly stones close to the wall. They look crisp and clean. The apple core is in the middle of these stones.

The baby chic hesitates, looks around, hesitates, looks around again, hops next to the core, leans forward, jumps back in fright as it lifts the apple core and the tiny pebbles make a crackling noise. It takes one more bite, hesitates, hops back on to the wall. Another older blackbird takes over. The youngster flies off.

Thin sunlight slants across the chilli plants. The older backbird keeps pecking at the apple core.

When is opportunity, opportunity? The right time -later, now?

Our dog wanders back to its food bowl in the hope of discovering more food, though she’s not long been fed. I return to the agenda. Better do it now or I’ll put it off, again.

 

About bydda88

I love poetry, writing, especially writing as healing, as touching the sacred, being touched. And place, places dreaming us, us them. Coasts, rivers, canyons; the ordinary things too, the small things, gestures that reach out.
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One Response to Now or Never?

  1. AJ says:

    No doubt you worked out an appropriate list for your weekly writer’s group. I hope it was a valued discussion in which the exchange of ideas and writing reflects deeply within..?

    You may be interested in Arrows of Desire – and in particular the discussion on ‘Composed Upon Westminster Bridge’ – more specifically, the way in which Wordsworth dressed the city, the bridge in such a way that it could be undressed, the ‘cloak could fall’ so to speak, and that this notion implies a certain temporary nature that in passing can slip away yet be again ‘dressed’ – clothed…

    Your description of the birds returns a narrative collection of individual friends gathered together an omen a sign an abstraction a point of reflection in the imaginary space of ‘chora’ (Julia Kristeva) translated into [concrete] reality – a part of the process of reflection that contributes to the expression of self in the act of writing, furnishing the space of this blog with reflective content that in turn provides the means for the reader to also reflect upon and interpret the very nature of the text ie self.

    Thanks for sharing your findings and contributing to meaning making on the other side of the great divide.

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